Shared Spaces
by anticute
Summary: Tony/Pepper. PostIM2. Given that each relationship has its own pace, theirs is undoubtedly complicated.


it's been a while since i've written/edited/been in the mindset of these charas, so this is admittedly pretty rough. also was the shortest of all my WIPs to work on 'cause wow i really need to start posting. too many WIPs.

EDIT: THERE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE LARGE SPACES IN BETWEEN DIVIDING CERTAIN SCENES BUT FFN IS BEING DRUNK. the large spaces were intentional for stylistic purpose; dividers interrupt flow. but i guess i have to use dividers now?

possibly part of a series? or stays as a oneshot, not sure.

* * *

**SHARED SPACES**  
PostIM2. Given that each relationship has its own pace,  
theirs is undoubtedly complicated.

* * *

It's in the early days and some mornings, when it's his place, Pepper wakes up in one of the guest beds rather than in the bed.

Tony has nightmares and Pepper needs her sleep, in order to make a name for herself in a company with his name on the building.

* * *

It's not so much running away from Tony and these nightmares. It's not running away from _Tony,_ as if she's unwilling or unable to deal with his problems.

It's just that she honestly doesn't know what to do with him when he gets into his nightmare fits. When he won't wake up, and makes these gnarled noises. When he finally does wake, and breathes out, gasping. When he rejects the water she has, flicks her hand away, and the water spills all over him, her. When he won't respond to her quiet (firm) voice with even a grumble, or make any gesture that indicates he even /hears/ her. Instead, he stays prone, sometimes curled away from her, other times curled towards her (the latter happens more and more as they're together). She tries to hold him, as much as she can, finger-pads wiping away sweat, resting gently against damp skin and running over goosebumps, his fingers wrenching and unwrenching wherever he can, and she tries - she really, really tries - to just be as present as much as she can. But it's a little too much, at times, and it's early in their...whatever they are now, and she hates it, but some nights she just _can't._

* * *

Tony doesn't condemn her for that, at all.

* * *

Some of those mornings, he'll be awake before her (or rather, he never quite gets back to sleep). Those days, he'll be up and about. He tinkers, reads, catches the middle of a B or a C movie on TV, finds strategies in games to beat Rhodey, and just busies himself. (One of his greater impulses is to actually call Rhodey. He never does. And if he did, it wouldn't be to talk about...it, this, but just to talk. Casually. Stupid topics. Half the reason is just to annoy a sleepy Rhodey. The other half-

He used to have recurring nightmares about his parents, for a year after the accident. It was rare when Tony did call, but Rhodey was there.)

As morning passes and if he's in that part of the house, he'll wander over to her room, lingers outside, and listens intently to see if she's awake (he never takes advantage of the cams). It's usually on Saturdays that he catches her like this: she lets herself sleep more during the weekends, but still has an alarm. Ten minutes before her second alarm, he'll walk in quietly and sits on the floor near the bed. He'll flip through whatever documents of projections, stats, proposals, that need to be read over by the both of them. And he will stay there as she ignores her second alarm, sleeps through the third one as well. His favorite is when she rolls over and her leg hangs off the bed.

(Now that it's whatever weather that makes for a California winter, it's always a colored, patterned sock peeking out from the covers.)

His not so favorite is when he ends up sitting near the end of the bed and she accidentally kicks him. (He learned quickly after that).

When she wakes up, she'll lay there for some time and will listen to the sound of each page turn. Accompanying the leg is then an outstretched arm, her fingers brushing his cheek just slightly, almost barely, and he'll lean towards them, closer, her warm against his cool skin. She'll feel the muscles of his jaw move as he reads parts, summarizing the contents of each page, as if it's the morning newspaper.

* * *

Other mornings, she's awake before he is. She'll walk downstairs, pat the bots if they're wandering around on her way to the kitchen, work, read, watch the morning news, keep alert of certain flags, call her mother. Sometimes, she'll get a text from Rhodey: "Good night or bad night?" And she'll respond accordingly, knowing Rhodey won't press Tony (or at least not too much), knowing that Rhodey just needs to _know._ It isn't prying (except it is, just a little, but well-intended), because Rhodey just wants to be there for the both of them.

If she doesn't have to go into the office that day or it's a particularly lax weekend, if she has her timing right (and she doesn't always, but after all these years, she somewhat knows his sleep schedule; and JARVIS is always there to notify her), she'll head to the bedroom a few minutes after he's properly woken up. She'll lean against the doorway, the door frame pressing into her shoulder as it takes her weight, fingers warmed by a half-filled mug of tea, coffee, or sometimes hot chocolate. Pushing back the half-opened door, he'll be in bed, arm slung over his eyes as he mutters tiredly at JARVIS.

He'll turn his head towards her eventually, JARVIS speaking on and on. She'll tilt her head at him, as a way of greeting, and then shake her head when he raises an eyebrow suggestively (it'll be slightly forced) at her. He'll shrug, takes her refusal easily, and rolls off the bed to make his way to the bathroom. Sometimes, the blanket will be dragged along and will be left half on the bed, the other half on the floor. Straightening herself from the doorway, she'll walk to the bed to pick it up, even though the floor is clean. They'll cross paths and she'll sit on the bed, drape the fallen blanket over her lap. He will steal away the mug right from her lips, right from the smile she's making against the rim of the mug as he calls her difficult. As he walks away, his back turned to her, she'll watch the way his shoulders move as he stretches, watches them disappear when he makes a turn into the bathroom. She'll take a look behind her, at the bed, and wonder if he dreamt more after she left the bed.

Other times, she'll stay at the door and offer her mug as he passes her on his way to the bathroom. He'll take a sip, grimace if it's not strong enough coffee, yet will drink most of it, and leave her the rest. She will sigh at this and he will just grin cheekily at her. And as the water runs in the shower, she will look at the bed and wonder.

* * *

In all cases, the elephant in the room stays in its corner.

And that's how it is, for now.

* * *

abrupt ending hies. my brain failing to come up with anything. i take full responsibility for any remarks on 'wtf this looks unfinished'. unnecessary commentary word vomit under this.

still tho. i try really hard not to end these kinds of pieces with them together-as-a-unit because not every relationship can fix and resolve everything in one smooth way. i want to keep their vulnerabilities there.

mywoes.

also to be fully clear: pepper has NOT moved in quite yet. her apartment is just not the setting for what this ficcu is attempting to achieve. you can pretty much guess the general same thing happens tho.


End file.
